Hermione Homemaker
by Followhale
Summary: The mundanity of her life never bothered Hermione, she liked things neat and orderly, without surprises, but that only lasted until a simple comment from Fred Weasley. I do not own Harry Potter, that is the lovely J.K. Rowling's. Read and Review!
1. Chapter 1

"I'm home." It was Ron, home from work. That's what he always said as soon as he walked in the door, then he would hang up his robes, and follow his nose to the food. Always, without fail.

"Kitchen!" Hermione called as she turned off the stove, satisfied with the meal she'd made them. It had taken her a while to get used to cooking nearly every night, but with a woman like Mrs. Weasley around, she could now do it quite well.

"How was work?" And that's how their night would be. He would tell her all about what happened at work and then he would ask her. Meaningless conversation would flow, she'd clean up, they'd listen to the Quidditch game, and then go to bed. Always, without fail. The mundanity of it all never bothered Hermione, she liked things neat and orderly without surprises, but that only lasted until a simple comment from Fred Weasley.

It was the usual Sunday dinner at the Burrow, everyone was there: she and Ron, Harry and Ginny with their son James, Bill and Fleur and their children, Percy and his fiancé, and the twins. Everyone was mucking about in the backyard while Mrs. Weasley finished cooking.

"So, Hermione." Said a twin in her ear as the other appeared over her opposite shoulder.

She turned around so she could look at them clearly; she still was unable to tell them apart. "So, _boys_." They chuckled.

"George." Said the one on her right.

"Fred." The left.

"We have a question for you." George continued.

"About law and legality and such, since you work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and all." Fred finished.

"Oh do you? That doesn't worry me at _all_. If you two are worried about getting arrested, then I can only imagine what this might be about." Hermione laughed.

"You done?" Fred asked, a little miffed.

"Yes, continue." Hermione folded her arms across her chest, preparing for what she was about to hear.

George began slowly, "Well, if we were to make, hmm…" he paused looking for the correct word.

"Say a sweet." Fred offered with a wave of his hand.

"Yes, yes, a _sweet_. And this sweet would be something you might give someone you don't particularly care for. Would we have to legally supply the buyer with an antidote?" George asked with a look Hermione quite couldn't distinguish from pure evil or simply mischievous.

"Well, morally—" Hermione was cut off.

"Even if the effects wore off in a few days or so?" Fred was pleading. _What was so wrong with giving an antidote?_ Hermione gave them a look, much like the one Molly used frequently.

"Legally and morally, I would say, the buyer would have to at least know the counter curse. If not, you two could be in a bit of trouble, not just with the law, but from parents of children who had been— What's it supposed to do again?"

Fred's eyes lit up. "Well, it'll turn your enemy into a—"

"Dinner!" Molly Weasley yelled from the kitchen window.

"You know what? I didn't really want to know anyway." Hermione gave them a fleeting glance as she walked inside, shaking her head as she took a seat next to Ron. The things Fred and George invented never ceased to surprise her; she imagined their jobs being new adventures everyday.

_Oh, Merlin. _Hermione thought as she looked at the roast sitting in front of her. _Ron's favorite, that means I'll need to use that ridiculous stain-removing spell just to get it all out of his clothes. _Hermione had gotten used to the way Ron ate, but she'd never be happy about doing his laundry. So, to lessen the load, Hermione placed Ron's napkin in his lap. When she looked up, she saw Fred staring at her oddly from across the table, but discarded it as Fred being Fred.

They finished dinner with only mild casualties to Ron's clothing; Hermione took it as an accomplishment.

"And treacle pudding for dessert!" Molly sounded so pleased with herself.

"This is great, mum!" Ron yelled across the table with a mouthful of pudding. "I wish yours was this good, Hermione."

"_Thanks, Ron."_ Hermione said sardonically. "You've got a little something on your face, dear."

"Wut?" he said through more food.

"Just there," she pointed to splotch of pudding on his cheek. He wiped at it and made it worse. "Goodness me, let me do it." She took her own napkin and wiped it on her boyfriend's face like a mother would her own child. She looked up and once again found Fred staring at her with that same, odd look. She stared back with a questioning one of her own; he smirked and went back to eating.

When they'd all had their fill of dessert and coffee, most of them went to the living room to listen to the Chudley Cannons/Foulmouth Falcons quidditch match. Everyone left, except Hermione, who stayed to help Mrs. Weasley clear the table. She made it all the way to the kitchen with a stack of plates before Molly stopped her.

"No, no." She took the stack out of Hermione's hands. "You have years of this waiting for you. Go back to the living room, dear." And with that she shut the kitchen door in the girl's face.

"Years of this waiting for me? What does that even mean?" Hermione muttered to herself as she walked straight into a twin. "Oh, sorry, Frehh-george-d?" She stammered trying to find the correct name. He smiled.

"Well, what mum meant was that you're the new her." He said, not telling her who he was.

"What?" Hermione looked at him skeptically.

"_You_ are the new _Molly Weasley_, Hermione love. Having a gaggle of children, cooking the big dinners, cleaning the house, washing up the clothes, just taking care of the homestead, of course." He said with a kind of sad look in his eyes. "What happened to brightest witch of her age?"

"Excuse me? I work for the Ministry of Magic, thank you very much. I have no children yet. Merlin, I'm not even married!" Hermione was surprised by her sudden anger.

"Oh, but my dear little Hermione-Homemaker, you will be. It's not a bad thing, though I for one didn't expect one of the Golden Trio to turn out like that."

"You don't know that I will." Hermione said indignantly.

"Love, did you see yourself tonight. Putting the napkin in Ron's lap, talking about your cooking, wiping the food off his face, you can't tell me those aren't Molly Weasley characteristics."

"Ohhhhh!" A loud yell came from the living room, they were missing the game. He turned to go join his family.

"Wait! We were talking." He stopped in the doorway leading out of the dining room. "I don't even know which twin you are."

He smirked at her over his shoulder. "Fred." And with that, he walked out of the room, leaving Hermione to ponder her new future on her own.


	2. Chapter 2

"I can't lay here anymore." Hermione sighed quietly to herself, sliding her feet off the bed and onto the cold hardwood. She tiptoed quietly the out of the room, listening to Ron's snores as she went, and made her way to the living room.

Hermione plopped down on the couch with a yawn and checked the clock on the mantel. "3:45 AM, of course." She grumbled sullenly to herself. "Haven't slept a wink tonight and this is all Fred's fault. '_You are the new Molly Weasley. Taking care of the homestead.'_" Hermione mimicked his voice, scrutinizing their short conversation. "_'What happened to the brightest witch of her age?'_ She turned into an adult, that's what. That's what people do!" Hermione yelled in frustration.

"Besides, I've done things in my life: I helped find the Philosopher's Stone, I helped the Order keep the prophecy away from Death Eaters, I bloody helped find and destroy all the horocruxes, not to mention I fought in the war that brought down Voldemort! I had adventures. I did things. That's enough, right?" Hermione looked around her apartment; neat shelves filled with alphabetically ordered books in the living room, the kitchen with everything in its place, the foyer with their robes hung up neatly; they seemed to mock her.

"My life doesn't need to be exciting now." Hermione said, but even as the words left her lips, she knew it was a lie. From the moment she and Ron had gotten home from the Burrow, what Fred had said was eating away at her. She couldn't make it through a simple thought without it being reverted to what he'd said. Her mind didn't even have to be in the realm of their conversation and it would switch, though her mind seemed to be there quite often.

She'd thought about her life with it's day-to-day, never changing, never ending routine. Get up, go to work, come home, cook dinner, listen to the quidditch game, go to bed. Always, without fail.

"Stop! Stop it, Hermione. You have a wonderful life with a guy that loves you! So what if it's a bit boring?" But there it was, right? The admittance of it, the fact that her like _was _boring. She paced the length of the tidy living room, mumbling to herself. "Dammit, Fred." She groaned, grabbing a random book from a shelf and going back to the couch.

She opened the book to a random page and noticed it was _Gone with the Wind. _She read a few pages and sighed to herself. Were her Scarlet days over before she'd realized they'd come at all? Where was her Rhett Butler? She never got to have the passionate love with a fire that burned for more; Scarlet was scarcely sixteen and had already had more men than Hermione had in her whole life. Hermione remembered her angsty teenage days, dreaming of a tall, dark, and handsome wizard to come flying up on a white broom and whisk her away to a life full of enthusiastic love.

Hermione quickly got up and exchanged the book for a different one.

_The Hobbit_, a tale of a man forced into an adventure he didn't really want, but it ends up being an amazing point in his life. _Am I like a hobbit now?_ Hermione thought. _Minus the short stature and hairy feet, have I become a simple, semi-reclusive, hobbit?_ Hobbits were known for having their routines and zero adventures, had she become one herself?

Hermione lay down on her couch and tried to force sleep to come.

"Hermione," Ron groaned as he stumbled into the living room, heading to the kitchen. "Is breakfast ready yet?"

Hermione shot straight up on the couch and quickly looked at the clock. 6:58 AM. "Dammit." she muttered, jumping off the couch and rushing past her sleepy-eyed boyfriend. "I overslept, Ron. You'll just have to make your own breakfast." She ran to the bathroom to quickly wash her face and change for work.

"What?" Ron said as he slouched in the doorway to the bathroom. Hermione continued to rub the soap on her tired features.

"Sorry, but I have a meeting at 7:30." She finally replied after dabbing the water from her eyes. "I didn't sleep well last night, so I guess I over slept." She said, gently pushing past him to get to their closet.

"Well, what do I do?" Ron followed her into the small room.

"You cook, Ronald." She sighed, searching for her robes.

"Cook what?" His face was filled with confusion, which she had seen before, but never in such a simple circumstance.

"Well, whatever you want, sweetie." She answered lightly. She knew he relied on her for things, but never imagined he did this much. _I'm not your mom!_ She caught herself thinking, but shook the thought straight out of her mind.

She slid her work robes over her head and turned to look at Ron again. His face was still confused as if he didn't understand what was happening. "Well, we have cereal, or you could make some toast in the muggle toaster. I think we may have some leftovers. I really have to go though." She kissed him on the cheek, grabbed her briefcase, and walked out the front door.

Her meeting lasted forever. It also didn't help that instead of listening to the hour-and-a-half, one-sided conversation on the increasing number of underage wizarding accidents, she thought about Fred. First about his stupid comments the night before, but she'd already come to terms with that being partly true. Her mind floated to his silly candy idea, then to the way he talked about it. The way his eyes lit up and he seemed so excited, as if he was going to burst with happiness at any moment. He acted the same as he had in school, still so excited to create things and show people what he'd done. Hermione, herself, hadn't felt like that in years. She loved working in the Improper Use of Magic Office, but it didn't excite her anymore; there's only so many times under-aged wizardry and secrecy can make a girl happy about going to work.

But Fred, he was different. His every waking moment was an adventure. Dawn till dark, it was anything but boring. Every Sunday he or George had a new story to tell about something that had happened at the store; they'd created a new product, some American had bought them out of an entire stock of Wildfire Whiz-Bangs, or her favorite story, a kid tripped, knocking over a full case of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, making them have to close the store because they couldn't see anything for hours. No matter the day, there was always action, peaking their interest for day-to-day work. Hermione admired that. Hermione _wanted_ that.

She walked slowly back to her office, stopping to talk to a few co-workers on her way, anything that would reduce the time between sitting down at her desk, and leaving for lunch. Eventually she did reach her office doors and, sighing, walked in to fill out the monotonous piles of paperwork.

She made it all the way to 11 o'clock before she got so bored she couldn't handle it. As she leaned back in her worn out swivel chair she heard the faint knocking of an owl at her window. She lurched out from behind her desk, ready for the well-needed distraction. She lightly grabbed the parchment from the small bird's mouth and went back to sit atop her desk as she opened it. It read:

_Hermione-Homemaker,_

_Lunch at the new restaurant across the way from Ollivanders? 11:45? _

_No reply necessary, I'll be there,_

_The attractive twin. _


End file.
